


Prelude to the USS Enterprise

by Leonard_Dammit_Jim_McCoy



Series: Of Empty Bottles and Second Chances [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, By eventual I mean soon, Character Study, Domestic, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Pre-Five Year Mission, Slow Burn, Space Husbands, more characters coming soon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-20 12:03:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10662198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonard_Dammit_Jim_McCoy/pseuds/Leonard_Dammit_Jim_McCoy
Summary: Dr. Leonard Horatio McCoy was a very tired, sad, and drunken man.





	1. 2253—Home Remedy

This was it. This was all he was going for. Six generous glasses of whisky on ice was his usual limit, but that night he felt done after four.  


Dr. Leonard Horatio McCoy was a very tired, sad, and drunken man. His blues eyes hung heavily with exasperation. Jocelyn, his wife— soon to be ex-wife, he meant, had taken everything away from him, both directly and indirectly. Even his right to raise his only child, Joanna.  


_Joanna,_ he thought.  


She was probably asleep right now, curled up in her warm bed at her Aunt Donna's, the soft, warm Georgian breeze making the front poarch swing sway lazily back and forth, softly creaking with the rest of the wooden structure.  


He sighed and laid his head down on the desk in his hotel room. He was tired of it all. Between the divorce and his job in Starfleet he'd apparently been good at, it still wasn't enough to get him out of the debt Jocelyn had put him in. He was tired of working hours upon hours, only to have to have his daughter stay with his kinfolk. He was tired of missions and running around and curing the sick and/or dying, and boy howdy was everyone _always_ sick and/or dying.  


Hell, he'd even grown tired of space.  


Space.  


The reason he didn't have Joanna.  


They wanted him to go on another ship. He'd been on Earth for two weeks and Starfleet wanted him to go be Chief Medical Officer of a ship his old friend from high school, Mark Rousseau, was captain of.  


When would he get to see Joanna?  


He thought of her snaggle-toothed smile and her bright blue eyes, of how she would light up like a Christmas tree whenever she saw him.  


_My daddy is a very important space doctor,_ is what she would tell people.  


Leonard smiled longingly.  


He briefly thought of the man he had saved on Ssan while on the _USS Republic._ He'd saved the life of someone who had no respect for life, an assassin.  


He was glad he did. No one deserved to die, even those who thought others did.  


He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He knew he was going to take the job.  


He looked at the whisky bottle and the shot glass that had half of its ice melted already.  


He decided to pour another.  


He watched as the golden liquid tumbled the half melted ice in the glass, creating a strange clear swirl in the liquid itself, due to the different densities of the substances coalescing together.  


He threw it back and downed it in one go. He felt pathetic and numb, though was no longer quite in the same emotional pain that he'd been wracked with when he'd first opened the bottle.  


_Mama always said whisky cured anything._  


He gathered himself up from the desk and moved to get onto the hotel bed, groaning as he stumbled and eventually just collapsed on top of it with his mouth wide open and a gentle stream of tears flowing steadily from his eyes.  


_Things are gonna change,_ he thought to himself. _For better or for worse._  


He drifted off into sleep with tears in his eyes, liquor in his belly, and his daughter in his heart.


	2. 2256—Starbase 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard McCoy is quite happy where he is on Starbase 7 in the Andorian orbit, where there are no deep-space disasters happening, thank-you-very-much, James Tiberius Kirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -NIQ stands for New Intelligence Quotient, which determines one's actual intelligence rather than one's ability to recognise patterns, as does our modern-day 21st century IQ testing. (Yes this is my own invention, forgive me if I believe there is more to human intelligence than the ability to recognise patterns)
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry this took so long. I was struggling to find the inspiration in writing only one chapter on the fundamental development of the Kirk-McCoy relationship, so I instead wrote several small chapters consisting of a scene each, then merged them all into one ridiculously long chapter.

It was December 31st, 2255. Dr. Leonard Horatio McCoy was on the cusp of twenty-nine, an age that threatened him with the horrid realisation of the possibility of turning thirty on the very starbase he led the entire medical unit on, only having accomplished shirking his physical responsibilities as a father and losing everything he had to a woman who never loved him. Needless to say, he didn't feel too fucking peachy these days.

  
“Lieutenant James Tiberius Kirk,” he read out from his report displayed on his PADD. “That's a hell of a name, kid.”

  
Leonard's scrubs were flowing a bit as he ran with the bed and medical team, his dark chestnut hair giving off the appearance of a light halo under the harsh lighting. He looked down at the injured man that lie feverishly on the rushing bed. The young lieutenant's arm was held tight against his chest, blood seeping through his filthy, torn, command gold shirt.

  
Lieutenant Kirk had dirty-blonde, bordering on brunette hair that was matted to his forehead with sweat and blood, and was otherwise sticking out every which way. He had a soft, round face that reminded Leonard of how cherubim were depicted in ancient Earth history, with innocent faces and soft hair, displaying them in such a way that even the most mighty of the heavenly warriors could seem gentle and kind. His face was covered in dirt, blood, sweat, and tears. However, Leonard could tell that the other guy must've looked as bad, if not, worse than this young officer. He knew a fighter when he saw one.

  
_Pa always said Ma was a fighter._

  
He shook his mind of the passing thought of his father, who only had ever wanted best for his son, yet knew exactly how push him away by these concerns. He also purged those thoughts of his mother, fierce, headstrong, a force to reckoned with, and departed from this life far too soon.

  
He was a _doctor_ , dammit. He had to think clinically if he wanted to give his best surgical performance.

  
_Compassion kills,_ he reminded himself.

  
He was rushing down the hall still, reading the chart on his PADD while the nurses were steering the boy's bed and keeping an eye on his stats. Lt. Kirk's heart rate was extremely elevated, as was his blood pressure. He would most likely make it, of that Leonard was sure, but his condition generally wasn't looking too good.

  
“Severe dehydration, several fractured ribs, punctured lung, dislocated shoulder, shattered wrist, a cracked femur, and a horribly fractured knee. What the _hell'd_ you do out there?” McCoy asked more to himself than anything.

  
The boy blindly rolled his head around as his heart rate monitor increased in speed and, through what must've either been excruciating pain or intense shock, shot a charming, dare-devil smile up at the surgeon and plainly said, “ _Pirates_ , doctor.”

  
McCoy rolled his eyes. _Damn idiot young'uns, gallivanting through outer-fucking-space._

  
The emergency medical team finally took a sharp turn into an operating room where there stood an already prepped three person medical team which was placed next to an operating table, ready to receive Lieutenant Kirk.

  
“Prep him for repairing that lung and get ready for a blood transfusion. We'll suture the rest of the external wounds once we get those two things taken care of!” Leonard instructed as he rushed into the room and ran past the table. He jogged into the sterilisation chamber and prepared to get suited up, entering the procedure information on the keypad next to the door. Along with the cleaning agent, the pressurised air came crashing down on him. He strapped a mask on as soon as the head nurse had shouted “1, 2, 3, lift!” and soon Lt. Kirk was lying on the operating table, drifting in and out of consciousness.

  
“Cut his shirt off!” Leonard shouted as he ran into the operating area, the surgical mask on his face dampening his voice a bit.

  
Upon his arrival to the table, the rest of the team ran into the chamber to quickly prep for emergency surgery. The three assistant surgeons were still prepping the boy for removal of an obstruction in the left lung. The head nurse picked up the surgical scissors and grabbed a hold of the hem of his uniform shirt, angling xyrs hand just so that xe could glide the blades of the scissors upwards.

  
“Not the shirt, I just got this one!” he groaned out. Whenever he spoke, there was another little bit of bloody saliva coalescing at the corner of his mouth.

  
“Shut up, you've got a punctured lung, you goddamn idiot.” Leonard shifted over to the head of the operating table and started adjusting the light above him. Jim watched as the doctor's cotton and latex-laden arms flexed above him, maneuvering the lamp directly over his chest where the surgeon with the scissors was leaned over his torso to cut at the sleeves. Leonard looked down into Jim Kirk's honey-tinted hazel eyes with his own brilliantly bright blue ones. His eyebrows were furrowed down at the young man. “Besides, the damn thing's already ripped anyway!” he said exasperatedly.

  
The brand new gold uniform shirt was finally completely removed and thrown into the biohazard bin. The doctors gathered around in fluid motion and started working on cleaning his more severe external wounds.

  
“Alright, Dr. Johnson. After we get this lung fixed, get a cadet to play that _Doors_ album I like. Ready for sedative and main incision.”

  
“Yes, Dr. McCoy,” replied the younger surgeon, walking across the room for the tray of scalpels.

  
Leonard picked it up as it was handed to him and prepared the order of the scalpels for the first incision as some of the rest of the team exited the prep chamber and scrambled over to him, finally ready to assist him. The cold, metal tray felt natural and good to him in his gloved hands; this was what he knew with certainty that he was capable of, and it probably _was_ the only thing he was good for. He sat the tray down on the cart behind him.

  
“What are you gonna do to me, Doctor?” Jim panted through his fever, his blood and sweat strained lips trembling as he was wracked with a wave of pain and nausea.

  
“I'm gonna saw on your bones, kid. I am a surgeon, after all,” he said as he swabbed Kirk's neck with an alcohol pad. “Dr. Chao, hypospray number twelve, please.”

  
“Yes, Dr. McCoy.”

  
Leonard bent over and positioned the hypospray needle over Jim's exposed throat. He briefly made eye contact with the officer who was still attempting to speak, but had only successfully created gurgling groans.

  
“Yeah, yeah, this'll shutch'ya up,” he muttered gruffly. Before Kirk could get an actual word in edgewise, Dr. McCoy injected the sedative into the young officer's bloodstream and watched with slight amusement as the lieutenant's eyes rolled back and his head lulled to the side. He held out his hand for the oxygen mask and said “See you in a few hours, kid,” as he placed it on the young man's face.

  
He looked down at the screen he'd positioned above Kirk's body to see the internal structure of his organs. He looked closer into the lung and sighed. “Prepare for a long, complicated procedure on the lung. I'd say about two hours; the rest depends and the blood transfusion. Scalpel.” He held his hand out to the doctor behind him. She handed him the first scalpel he'd reordered and laid out perhaps two minutes prior.

  
He was to spend six hours and forty-seven minutes in surgery with Lieutenant James Tiberius Kirk, the cadet unconscious and pliant beneath his surgeon's blade.

  


###### 

Not much time passed into Kirk's healing process before he and Leonard had grown to become friends. With Leonard living on the seldom-active starbase 250 days out of the year, he often found himself sitting in Jim's room, watching tv, playing poker, or mostly just shooting the shit. Occasionally they would even play chess together. It was doing the latter that'd helped him discover that Jim Kirk had an above genius level NIQ, something he had been trying to find in another human being aside from himself since Jocelyn had left him, when Jim had defeated him and he'd simply chalked it off as his inability to play chess very well, but Jim had been quick and keen to correct him.

  
_It's not you, it's me. I'm just your average, everyday genius._

  
It was on a day such as this one, a day they would spend together as companions rather than as doctor and patient, the very day before Jim was to be discharged, when Leonard decided to make his move to keep Jim's company outside of his injuries. He'd never really had very many friends, even as a child, and after his falling out with Mark, leaving the _USS Richard Feynman_ , being demoted from Chief Medical Officer to Junior Medical Officer, and soon after that his resignation from the _USS Koop_ , he really only spent time with other doctors who just weren't on the same intellectual level as he. He cherished every one of them, but thus far none had managed match wits with him. Needless to say, Jim had been a pleasantly refreshing and welcome surprise.

  
Leonard sat on Jim's bed with him, listening to him talk about the crew he'd missed dearly. He'd already been reassigned to the _USS Farragut_ , though, not officially until he was discharged from Leonard's care. The dip in the bed that Leonard had created with his presence comforted Jim as he struggled with the sheer restlessness of being mostly alone and confined to medical bay aboard an orbital (which to him was as good as being stationary) starbase.

  
“So, the _Farragut_ really does need ya, huh?”

  
Jim smiled his warm, absolutely charming smile as he lifred the cup of coffee Leonard had brought him to his mouth and took a swig as his friend awaited a response. He studied the way the glittering light of the sun brightened Leonard's eyes so much so that they seemed almost incandescent. “I swear, I've never seen a ship take so long to get repaired,” he finally said.

  
Leonard rolled his eyes. “Well, _Lieutenant_ , we _are_ on a base designed to do basic medical work and stock supplies only, those of which are intended solely for Federation patrolling ships and Andorian research vessels.” Leonard took a sip of his own coffee, his intense eyes never leaving Jim's deviously soft ones.

  
Jim held his smirk proudly, challenging the doctor with a look of boyish defiance. “And yet, here I sit.”

  
“Here you sit,” the doctor agreed. He looked down at his coffee, trying to figure out how to properly approach the subject of his leave.

  
“Bones,” Jim started. Leonard rolled his eyes up as far as they would go. Ever since the cadet had woken up he'd started calling the doctor _“Sawbones”_ , which had within that week turned into just _“Bones”_. Leonard didn't mind it, though he still wasn't sure if it was a real nickname or if it was meant to tease him.

  
“Yes, Jim?” he sighed. Leonard wasn't looking at the young lieutenant, but he could feel the other's eyes resting upon him still.

  
“You should apply to go back out on a mission. You're a hell of a CMO. Well, I mean, apply to a different ship, obviously,” he added the ending statement realising the implications of his suggestion.

  
Leonard grew still. So, Jim _had_ read his public file.

  
It was true that he'd missed the bright, sunny shore leaves that Mark always picked, that's for sure. He'd missed training the medical staff, having young ensigns and sometimes lieutenant junior grades around to help him and to give them the opportunity to study under him, he who was one of Starfleet's most skilled surgeons (yes he was a bit more than proud of himself, considering that he'd been expected to grow up and choose the clergy). Sometimes he even missed the ever changing sky that one would witness when on a mission through the depths of space.

  
_The deep, dark, cold, lifeless, cruel, and unforgiving depths of space._

  
“It's… I'm in a complicated situation, Lieutenant Kirk.”

  
Jim smiled at the throw of his title. “There's a ton of one year missions to go on. You see your girl, what, four times a year if you're lucky? I know how the leaves work out for students, I _am_ a student, you know.”

  
Leonard said nothing. Jim knew a bit about Joanna, though, not much more other than she was wicked brilliant and Leonard never got to see her because of his posting and his ex-wife. Other than in passing conversation, he'd refused to talk about Jocelyn or his father, David. Jim respected this, as their friendship was new and most likely fragile. If Leonard felt the need to further explain the situation one day, he would when he was damn well ready.

  
What Jim didn't really know about was how Leonard got a little more than just “space-sick”, as he'd described it, anytime the loss of or a shift in gravity was involved. He'd have a full-on panic attack anytime he would go in or out of orbit, leave or go to planets, when he'd experience the varying gravities of those planets, and anytime he'd have to visit the gravity null cargo bay.

  
The doctor inhaled deeply and decided to change the subject. “So, I'm taking my federally mandated shore leave of 14 days in a couple of weeks, and I's wonderin' if you'd like to pop in for a visit or two while the _Farragut_ gets worked on.”

  
Jim stared at him indifferently, not having really expected Leonard's to confirm or deny his reasons for avoiding deep-space. Though, with this expression, it was difficult to read the young cadet. Leonard hated not knowing what people were thinking. “On Andor?” Jim inquired.

  
Leonard laughed and grinned from ear to ear. He held his smirk as he raised his right brow at his friend. “Good god, man, that's too damn far from home for my comfort.” He took a brief sip of his coffee before he spoke again. “No, I've actually got this little place on Alpha Centauri IV, right outside the federation colony where it's nice and quiet. My daughter won't able to come visit this time around and so I'd like it if you'd maybe come over for a drink or somethin' before I hafta come back here and you've gotta take off again.”

  
Jim cracked a smile at the doctor and fiddled with the sheets that were pooled around him for a second before he replied. He lifted his shimmering hazel eyes and placed their direction towards the doctor's own shockingly ice-blue eyes, and Leonard swore he saw a twinkle in there as Jim opened his mouth and twisted it into a smirk to speak. “I'd be absolutely delighted, doctor.”

  
“Excellent.” Leonard had had half a mind to mix mint juleps for the two of them when he'd first formulated this plan of his soon-to-be former patient accompanying him on his leave, but upon further inspection of the young cadet's chart had discovered that Lt. James Tiberius Kirk was, in fact, allergic to mint amongst a dozen other things. So, naturally, as a doctor and a friend, he tried and tried and tried to think of something that was special to him that he could offer Jim. In Leonard's opinion, celebrating a good surgery and steady seven month recovery required more than just your average whisky. “Ever had peach liquor?”

  
Jim looked at him with the sense of familiarity that the two had developed over the course of his stay on the starbase. Both Jim and Leonard felt confident in calling the other his best friend, though neither would admit it to the other for fear of pushing him away. “Can't say I have.”

  
Leonard scoffed incredulously. “Lord Jesus, where on God's green Earth could you possibly be from where there's no peach liquor?”

  
“Riverside, Iowa.”

  
“Huh,” Leonard murmured.

  
“What?” asked Jim.

  
Leonard raised his right brow as he plastered a very sarcastic, yet friendly expression onto his face. “That certainly explains a lot.”

  


###### 

“Whew, Jesus, Bones. You weren't kidding, were you?” Jim's face was scrunched up and an undignified grunt/exhale left his lips. Leonard ignored how cute he found the noise and went on with his day, thanks.

  
The doctor gazed down at his empty glass which held one spherical piece of ice. He sat at the island with a great, big shit-eating grin on his face, the gap in his teeth showing proudly and merrily.

  
Jim had been staying at the doctor's house for going on a week, and while it'd taken a little bit of getting in touch with his sister, Leonard had delivered on his promise to obtain some of his own homemade peach liquor.

  
“God's nectar itself,” Leonard said with absolution. He poured them both another glass and looked down at the fruit that was gathered at the bottom of the glass bottle. “Y'know you're gonna help me eat these peaches, don'tcha?”

  
“Of course. I love peaches, I'm sure soaking them in bourbon only improves the quality, Doctor.”

  
“You're damn right it does, Lieutenant. Speaking of which, isn't twenty-three a little young to be ranking lieutenant and being halfway done with your command track?” he squinted at Jim.

  
Before Jim could answer or retort, McCoy's communicator beeped. He glanced at Jim before made his way over to the counter where he'd left it. He flipped it open and cleared his throat, making sure the setting was still on a private, non-speaker output.

  
“McCoy here.”

  
“ _Len, it's me!_ ”

  
“Donna, how wonderful to hear from you again. How's Jo?”

  
Jim smiled warmly at his friend. It was a pity that Leonard was stuck at his job. He seemed like he was such a good father when given the opportunity to be one, and well more than deserved to see his child more.

  
“ _She'll be better once she sees her daddy again. We're in Atlanta now. Pa says hey and he loves you._ ”

  
Leonard sighed. He shared the sentiment with his daughter. Things never felt quite right when Jo wasn't with him. He'd also missed the days when he'd call home from Ole' Miss and hear his mother's proud and concerned voice, having raised such a fine young doctor. His father these days, however… “What'd ya call for?” he asked perhaps a bit too harshly.

  
“ _Jo decided to have Pa's brithday party today so she can come visit you one more time before you leave back for work. He encouraged it._ ”

  
Leonard's heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing his daughter again. Images of her face scrolled across his mind, her freckled cheeks and bright-eyed stare that reminded him so much of his own flashed across the screen of his mind.

  
_I love you so so much, Daddy!_ she would tell him with a big grin on her face as he'd hold her in his arms.

  
“Perfect, what time'll y'all be here?”

  
“ _Jo'll be there around five tomorrow evenin'._ I'm _stayin' with Pa where everything's gonna be kid-free this weekend. Oh, is your boyfriend still gonna be there?_ ”

  
Leonard suddenly went into a slight state of panic. He heard the rush of blood in his ears. “Now wait a damn minute here, Joanna isn't flying on her own!” he exclaimed.

  
“ _Oh, so he_ is _your boyfriend. Good, I'm glad you're finally gettin' over that bitch, boyfriends are good, I'm glad._ ”

  
“Dammit, Donna, he's not my goddamn boyfriend; and even if he was, that's beside the point! There's no way in _hell_ Joanna is gonna go off-planet alone. There's plenty of room for all of us here, including you, now there's no damn sense in sendin' my seven year old daughter out into space by herself!”

  
Donna laughed lightly at her brother while he frowned and furrowed his brows.

  
“ _You drive a hard bargain, but I must insist, Len. She hardly ever spends time with someone other than me an' Fred. It'd be good for her t'meet one of your friends without me there. She sees me all the time,_ ” Donna said sympathetically and persuasively.

  
Len sighed. He wasn't comfortable with Joanna being on her own anywhere at all, but he knew it was because of his own semi-irrational fear of space. Kids her age and even younger travelled alone all the time, of course he knew that. But it was _his Joanna_.

  
All it took was another passing thought of her and how big and proud of herself she'd feel from travelling _all by herself_ , she'd boast, and he was broken.

  
“Fine. But make sure she's got plenty of food and water for the shuttle, the altitude is adjusted a lot higher here and I don't want her gettin' sick.”

  
“ _And I've prepped her for this trip_ how _many times now?_ ”

  
_Not nearly enough,_ Leonard thought wistfully.

  
“Message me as soon as you get her to the docking station.”

  
“ _Of course, Len._ ”

  
He sighed. It would be okay, he just needed to wrap his head around the idea of Joanna, his small, fragile daughter who was just too pure and innocent for this world of cold, dark disease wrapped in lifelessness, travelling through those harsh conditions of space on her own.

  
“Bye, Donna. Love ya. Tell Jo I love her.”

  
“ _Love you too, Len._ ”

  
He disconnected the communicator and turned around to face Jim. He let out a sigh. “Well, I hope you like seven year olds who are too smart for their own good and ask way too many questions. I would've let you know sooner, but I just found out myself, so I hope–”

  
“Bones,” Jim interrupted. “I can't _wait_ to meet her.”

  
Leonard smiled. Not a smirk, not a grin, an actual, genuine smile. Jim decided to cherish that look and never forget the sight of it.

  


###### 

They sat at the dinner table, munching on some home cooked, southern fried… well, as close to chicken as you could get in that region of Centaurus.

  
“Jim, can I ask you a question?” quipped the younger McCoy. She sat opposite Jim, with Leonard at the head of the table. She munched on her food with delight; _her daddy had always been a good cook_.

  
It was their last night together before Joanna had to leave and Leonard and Jim had to return to the next quadrant over. While things were easy going, it was safe to say that everyone felt a bit melancholy at that particular meal.

  
Jim looked up from his own plate of food and smiled down at her. “Of course, anything, dear.”

  
“Are you in love with my daddy?”

  
Leonard immediately started coughing up the milk he'd been drinking. Jim only smiled in return and laughed at his companion as the man struggled to gather his bearings.

  
“Joanna, pun'kin, it itn't nice to ask something private like that.”

  
“But it's not private, Daddy. Nonna told me that when someone's in love, they want to tell everyone about it because they're happy! Jim looks happy when you look at him, so _I_ think he _loves_ you!”

  
Leonard calmed down a bit and smiled wearily at her. “There's a huge difference between friendship love and romantic love.”

  
“Romantic love?”

  
“When people are married, or boyfriend and girlfriend.”

  
“Oh! Nonna told me about that! She said it could be boyfriend and boyfriend, or girlfriend and girlfriend, oh, oh, oh, Daddy, did you know that a bunch of people from all over the universe that aren't boys _or_ girls? That's just so cool! Even humans can be like that! And Earth is so slow sometimes, because everyone else was okay with it before we were.”

  
Jim was grinning wide. “Did you know that there are people all around the universe who's culture says to marry more than one person?”

  
Joanna rolled her eyes exactly like her father did, and before Leonard could change the subject, she simply said “Well, duh, Daddy's like that!”

  
Leonard was blushing furiously. He hadn't anticipated his private life to be exposed like it was being. “Joanna, it's rude to tell everyone my business,” he said, unsure of how to further approach the matter.

  
“Well you tell everyone about mine all the time,” she retorted.

  
He sighed. He really didn't want to be unfair like his father was, but he wasn't sure how to explain to her that an adult's private matters are different than a child's private matters.

  
“Adults are funny about their business. It's just being polite to respect that,” Jim suggested to her.

  
“Oh, okay! I'll remember next time!” she said, and continued on with her meal.

  
Jim smiled and winked at Leonard as he picked his fork back up and continued to work on his meal. The doctor and father of little Joanna McCoy was thankful that Jim's gaze didn't linger after that damning wink, because for the first time in years, someone had made Leonard Horatio McCoy blush.

  
“Oh, Jim. Can I ask you a question?”

  
Jim suppressed a chuckle as Leonard continued to watch them interact. What do you want to be when you grow up?”

  
Jim's eyes lit up. “A really cool starship captain.”

  
She giggled with delight. “Ooh, what do starship captains get to do?”

  
“Well, it depends on the mission of the ship,” he started. Leonards drowned out most of the conversation itself, but still watched the two interact. Jim was telling her about the missions he had in space, and how one day he wanted to return to the first starship he ever set foot on as her captain. Okay, maybe he wasn't drowning it out, but watching the sheer action of his daughter and what he now considered his best friend after seven months carry on as if they'd known each other for years and years warmed his heart and made him feel something he hadn't felt in a long time.

  
He felt at home.

  
“What about you, Joanna? What do you want to do?”

  
She grinned wide and showed the gap in her teeth proudly. “I wanna be a doctor, just like my daddy.”

  
Leonard's heart sank. He wanted something better for Joanna than this hell of a life that he'd created for himself. He hated his job, lived at it, was severely in debt due to his inability to choose his partners carefully, and never got to see his only child.

  
He tried not to imagine how she would react the first time she'd lose a patient, and she _would_ lose patients. Everyone always does. He tried not to imagine her face when she realised there would be nothing she could do other than to break the news to them as gently as possible when terminal illness would strike a person under her care. He tried not to imagine her going through a failing marriage, being forced to keep a job she hated.

  
He especially tried not to imagine her resenting him, as he did his own father.

  
“Aw, Bones, she wants to be like you!” Jim said with a great grin and a light in his eyes. Leonard was broken from his unwanted train of thought.

  
He glanced at Jim and feigned a smile at the young man. Jim could tell it didn't reach his eyes, nor would it if the subject was approached again.

  
Thankfully, Joanna decided to assist with that.

  
“Hey Jim, can I ask you a question?” she said once more.

  
Upon hearing her ask this again, the two men resolved into a fit of giggles. It had been awhile since Leonard had laughed like that, and it'd been awhile since he'd felt that at _home_. He decided to cherish it for just one more day.

  


###### 

Leonard stumbled next to Jim down into the shuttle and fumbled with his seat belts, both of the Starfleet officers headed to Starbase 1, the elder of the two feeling particularly ill. “I may throw up on you,” he whispered to Jim after he finally clicked the belts into place. He leaned back in the seat and let out a shaky sigh that caused his chest to quiver beneath the artificial light of the shuttle.

  
Jim had never been on the same shuttle as Leonard, but the man had previously spoken of his discomfort concerning in-space flight. He'd said that it was one of the primary reasons why he'd applied to the starbase after his resignation from the _USS Koop_ rather than applying to another starship.

  
_Starbases stay in orbit and don't move any faster than you can feel the movement. There's hardly any space debris to be dodged, no being threatened by the natives on landing-party missions, and if something goes horribly awry on the starbase, there's a planet directly below you to safely land your fancy life-supported escape pod on._

  
And besides all that, shuttles didn't feel very sturdy and just made Leonard plum damn nauseated.

  
“This is Cadet Thomas D. Morrison-Blair, letting you know that we'll be ready for departure in about five minutes,” came the voice of the pilot behind the intercom.

  
McCoy let out a shudder and gripped his seat tighter. “ _Cadet,_ ” he hissed out under his breath as he grabbed the bridge of his nose with his left hand and rubbed furiously in between and at his eyes.

  
Jim watched as Leonard worked himself into a well-contained panic, his breath slowly and quietly heaving unsteadily, sweat trickling from his his face and hands, giving away his high anxiety. To any on-looker, Leonard would look as though he were tired or simply had a headache. But Jim knew better. Jim knew that Leonard would contain anything he didn't want seen to the world if it took every last ounce of his will. He was a father and a damn doctor; it was his natural instinct and his _job_ to tend to and have at least a halfway decent bedside manner for other people, not the other way around.

  
The shuttle hissed and whirred into a greater life than what it had been living earlier, that of which was simply providing a soft hum of electricity for the passengers to chatter over. Now there were engines churning and fans blowing to cool down the heated parts of the machine.

  
_What if the fans stop working and the whole damn craft overheats?!_

  
Leonard tried to calm himself down and stray from this type of thinking, as he tried every time he left a base or a planet. And just like evey other time he'd flown, he failed to do so.

  
The shuttle began to advance forward and Jim could see Leonard's mouth moving, eyes shut, the words he chanted inaudible and unreadable to the lieutenant. However, he knew with certainty what he was witnessing as he took in the sight of the other man. Dr. Leonard H. McCoy was _praying_.

  
Without sparing much thought to the action, Jim reached down in between their seats and grabbed Leonard's hand in a strong, grounded embrace of their fingers. He leaned over, so the only person who would be able to hear his words of encouragement would be Leonard. “I've got you, Bones,” he whispered. “It's going to be alright.”

  
Leonard's mouth ceased it's quiet pleas for divine intervention and upon the feeling of leaving the ground, he decided to grasp on to Jim's callused fingers with his own practised surgeon's fingers, their palms pressed together in his fearful anxiety.

  
He thought back to his prayer.

  
_Alright, dammit, now would be about the right damn time for you to reveal my guardian angel to protect me from the bullshit of outer-space you created, you great, big cock._

  
For the first time in a long time, he felt genuinely blessed to have a friend, someone to come at him with no harsh judgements, but with companionship and understanding. He'd never known why he was like this, but very few people had taken his terror of flying seriously. He was thankful to see Jim's authentic concern and understanding whenever he opened his eyes to meet those of the cadet.

  
When they arrived at Starbase 1, Jim had to rush immediately to the ship bay to report for medicals and inspections that were to be completed before the ship's departure. Leonard was disappointed, but he understood nonetheless. They'd scheduled a video call for two weeks from then. 

  
When Leonard boarded his long-range shuttlecraft of five, including the pilot and co-pilot, he sorely missed the feeling of warmth and security around his nervous palm.

  
There were no prayers uttered by the good doctor on that particular flight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dream of a world where queer identities, polyamory, and space travel are simply a known fact. I also dream of a world where Leonard McCoy gets the love and attention he deserves, dammit. 
> 
> Because the only beta reader I have is myself and I write entirely on my phone, please tell me if you happen to notice any errors in grammar, spelling, or formatting. I hope you enjoyed it, any feedback is very much appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the intro! While brevity is the soul of wit, I am going to be writing longer chapters in the future. 
> 
> I don't know how often I can update, but I'm hoping for no longer than once per month (I'm shooting for at least once every two weeks).
> 
> Please give me some feedback and let me know what you think!!


End file.
